blank

We are smack dab in the middle of January, admitted not my favorite time of the year, and I'm feeling ... blank. Not an altogether bad feeling, just sort of strange. I realized the other day I'm not listening to music nearly as much as I normally do. I'm uninspired in the kitchen. I'm not taking pictures or listening to my favorite podcasts. I'm not baking bread or making soap, and my little bit of knitting is not really capturing my attention much.

I'm not really down about this winter -- actually, I secretly believe it's not going to be that bad. This little January "thaw" has given me a bit of hope, a taste of spring, and I think we're going to make it through.

I'm not blue. I'm not mad or impatient or longing for a change. I wouldn't say I'm unhappy, but I'm not sure I'm happy either. But that's ok. I feel rather passive. Letting life go by, enjoying the ride, but not really making much happen. It's sort of a nice break.